The Burn
by Kaliope Agathon
Summary: Kara is trying to deal with her burning anger. Helo is yearning to give and receive comfort. A chance encounter may give them both what they need. Set sometime before "Downloaded". Not neccessarily romance in the strictest sense. Rated M just to be safe.


Disclaimer: I do not own the Battlestar Galactica Universe and do not intend to make any money with this.

Author's note: I am not a Kara/Helo fan necessarily, but when I thought this storyline over in my head I just could not see it work with Sharon. This is set in Season 2, shortly before "Downloaded". This is the first fanfiction I have written in almost 8 years so please be gentle. Oh yeah, and the "fangirlish" description of Helo serves the purpose of the story and is thus totally necessary ;-).

**The Burn**

„Frak!". Kara Thrace's scream echoed across the empty mess hall, as the boiling hot liquid spilled over the rim of her coffee cup and left her tongue and lips with a burning sensation that was anything but pleasant. Irritated, Kara slammed her fist down on the table, with the result, that the now almost empty cup rolled over and another gush of boiling liquid spilled onto Kara's hand.

Kara's eyes tightened into slits as she surveyed the new damage. Her skin was already reddening and stinging after the unexpected assault – yet, her mind welcomed the pain, relished in it almost. What was a little burn compared to the searing pain of fighting against the Cylons every single day, seeing her Viper pilots be vaporized around her in the cold, unforgiving darkness of space, dealing with her ever-conflicted feelings towards Lee, trying to make sense of yet another Laura Roslin-epiphany that involved her and on top of it all the thought of Sam Anders, stuck on Cylon-occupied Caprica. No, Kara would much rather focus on the burning pain on her tongue, lips and hand, which throbbed angrily with every move she made.

"Easy there Starbuck, or you just might hurt yourself". Helo's melodic, velvet voice held a tinge of bitter amusement. Kara had not seem him come in and now she had to strain her eyes to make out his face in the dimly lit room. Karl Agathon, resident Cylon-lover and thus possibly even more frakked up than she was, was leaning against the door, watching her. His muscular arms were crossed over his broad chest. His right hand was clutching a glass of water, his tank top clinging to him moistly. Sweat was glistening on his upper arms and his short hair was damp. Even without the white towel slung across his broad shoulders, Kara could have easily determined that he had just finished his daily run through Galactica's corridors. His green eyes met hers, solemn and caring. For a fleeting second Kara's anger was replaced by a pang of pity. Ever since Helo had brought back his pregnant Cylon, this look had never left his eyes.

It was not that Kara trusted Sharon, nor did she particularly care about the freak of nature the Cylon carried within her. But she could relate to Helo. They were both soldiers, only while she was fighting on many battlegrounds at the same time he was trying to single-handedly win a nuclear war. She could not even begin to grasp the anguish she was sure he was dealing with every hour, minute and second of the day, did not want to understand it, but she could relate enough to know that the last thing he needed was his friends turning their back on him. He had never been very outspoken about his feelings, preferring to keep his burdens to himself, but his eyes could speak volumes to those who knew him well enough. And Kara had known him long enough to know that he appreciated her loyalty.

The solemn look in Helo's eyes gave way to worried curiosity and he stepped towards her, picking up her hand to look at the wound himself. "Would you like to share your reason for wasting a perfectly good cup of coffee on your hand?" Kara's irritation returned full force. "Why that frakking thing just kind of….. well…" Kara frowned. Now that he asked it occurred to her that maybe making such a fuss over a little sip of hot coffee was uncalled for in times such as this, but her lips and tongue were still throbbing angrily. "I burned my lips and tongue" she all but blurted out. Helo's look of worry changed to one of incredulousness and then he started to laugh so hard Kara was almost startled at the sound of it. It had been a long time since she had heard him laugh like that, a long time since she had seen him smile his genuine bright Helo smile that was both dorky and attractive at the same time. By the Lords of Kobol, she missed this Helo, the Helo he had been before the Cylons had attacked the colonies. She also could not help but join into his laughter. Her amusement was short-lived though, as another sting of pain reminded her of the reason for this little hilarity and she hissed.

Helo stopped laughing immediately, the look of concern returning to his face. Only now it was mixed with something else, an emotion Kara could easily make out, as she had seen it in the mirror many times before. Helo looked at her with such an intense longing that she wanted to reach out and comfort him, regardless of the fact she had never felt anything except a sister's love for him. Of course he was longing for somebody. He was longing for Sharon, longing to be close to her, without being separated by a barrier of thick, impenetrable glass. He was longing to be able to laugh with her, longing to be alone with her, in a dimly lit room. Ever since the attack on the Colonies had wiped out almost all they had loved and cared for, everybody on Galactica was craving the touch of a loved one, craving the comfort only a warm embrace could give. Yet, Helo's need for love was condemned by basically everyone on the ship, his comfort held in a small prison cell.

Without thinking, Kara reached out with her burned hand until it was placed flat on his chest, trying to give him at least a little bit of comfort. With slow, gentle movements, Helo removed her hand from his body and turned it over in his own hands, to once more look at the burn. With his free hand he placed his water glass on the table next to them and fished out one of the small ice cubes that had already begun to melt. Slowly and deliberately he ran the ice cube over her hand, caressing her palm, her fingers and her wrist. He then brought the cube up to his full lips, moistened them with it, stuck the small remainder of the cube between his lips and bent his head towards her. The cool liquid on his lips soothed hers and she barely parted her lips to accept the ice cube from him. Her tongue stopped its throbbing immediately and she sighed into Helo's lips. Helo's hand was still holding hers, his other hand resting gently on her hips, while her free hand rested on his damp upper arm. None of them was moving as they exchanged what neither could have ever asked for in words: the comforting touch of a woman against the cooling balm to soothe a burning anger.

With a small smile, Helo finally drew his head back and gently dropped her hand. Kara's hand was still resting on his arm and she gave it a short but firm squeeze before she herself drew back from his personal space. There were no words necessary. A fine line had been threaded… but not crossed. Nevertheless she gave him a small smile of her own, letting him know that it had been ok. His caring eyes once again were like a book to her and so she did not miss the sadness return to them as he turned around to head out of the mess hall.

Kara sighed. The battle was far from being over, the chances of either of them winning growing smaller with each day. Yet, for one precious moment in time she had heard and seen him laugh again, giving her the much needed proof that at least one of her oldest and closest friends had not died on Caprica. And to Kara, that had been worth the burn of pain.


End file.
